chasing cars
by swishandflickwit
Summary: The Morningstar, she had read in her quest to better understand him, in the aftermath. Lightbringer. How God might've laughed. If He ever bothered to check in, anyways. Then He'd have known how darkness had taken root of His son. And leeched the light from his eyes. —In which Chloe returns a gift to where it rightfully belongs. Post-reveal. 22nd in The Devil's Lucky Number series.


**AN: _One _week left. Here we go.**

* * *

He'd been having trouble sleeping.

_Voices, _he said. _So many voices._

But even if he hadn't told her, she would have known. It was in the tremble of his hands whenever he poured himself a drink. It was ubiquitous in the tense set of his shoulders and the deep lines on his face, when he turned to her with a smile that no longer touched his gaze.

(_Could you hear mine? _she wondered. _Can you hear how sorry I am?_)

_The Morningstar,_ she had read in her quest to better understand him, in the aftermath. _Lightbringer_. How God might've laughed. _If_ He ever bothered to check in, anyways. Then He'd have known how darkness had taken root of His son.

And leeched the light from his eyes.

_I'm sorry, _she told him so many times—_kept _telling him, really. And every damn time he'd give her that hollowed look and that blank smile, tell her in overly-saccharine but ultimately _empty _pronouncements, _Whatever for?—_accompanied by a flippant wave—_No need for that._

Spoken like an irrevocable truth. Like he had always expected it. Like she had a _right_ to be repulsed by _him._

Like he _deserved _it.

And in the wake of that, he was just… _dimmed. _So gaunt with the void of effulgence yet burdened with the unrest his demons toiled upon his mind.

Demons _she _had unbridled with her careless rejection.

And no number of apologies would make that right. No _words, _in any language—and he knew them all—would make this right.

So she thought about what she could _do, _instead.

"Lucifer?" she called from his bedroom. They had been steadily thrumming to a nascent rhythm. One redolent of the scales of their earlier partnership but interspersed—given her recently-appointed maestro status on her knowledge of him—with new beats, such as retiring to his penthouse for a drink or two before he took her home.

But Chloe was ready to weave a fresh, if familiar, harmony now.

Her back was to the entrance, so all she had to go on to indicate his arrival was the sharp click of Louboutins against Italian marble and his confused, "Detective?"

After all, it wasn't every day she was stood at the foot of his bedstead, drowning in one of his ridiculously expensive, black robes.

"What… what's going on?"

With quivering fingers, she untied the knot at her hip, and slipped first one sleeve of a shoulder—

"Detective," he said through strained, yet warbled, articulations.

—then the other.

"_Chloe," _he warned.

Silk pooled at her feet, and then there was no hiding.

"Turnabout is fair play," she parroted. "You showed me all of you."

She turned to him wearing nothing but a small smile.

And a beloved chain clasped around her neck.

"Now it's my turn."

His breath truncated when he inhaled the sight.

"You—"

"Are sharing with you who I am. Who I _want _to be," she averred. "And that's _with_ you, as_ you are. _Wings—Devil face—and all," she chuckled, even as droplets stained her lashes."If you'll still have me?"

For a while, she could hear nothing but her wild heartbeat. He moved to stand before her, giving her body a cursory glance before _staring, _just staring.

At the bullet nestled comfortably between her collarbones.

Then he was pressing his forehead to hers, till her cheeks were wet with tears she could no longer separate between his and her own.

But he was warm, _so _warm, a gleam in his eyes when he grasped her biceps and asked her, oh so timid but tender… _innocent._

"Will you lie down with me? Just… just lie down."

_Hold me, _she heard his plea.

So she did, the reassuring weight of him in her arms feeling faintly of forgiveness... the sensation of his skin flushed against hers resonant with the soft glow of love.

Light flared behind her closed eyelids.

And they were both lost to the quiet oblivion of a peaceful slumber.

* * *

**AN: ****I know I promised lighter, fluffier things but _ugh,_ I watched Endgame this morning and have just been crying on and off all. freaking. day. I fell asleep around 4pm then woke up at 7 to write this for about two hours. Sorry if it's sucky :\ Ildy _did_ mention we would get a bullet necklace scene and I've (high)lowkey been wondering where that's gone to because I know how much it meant to Lucifer, to _both_ of them, to have Chloe wear it. In the aftermath of Endgame, I needed a bit of healing and reconciliation myself. Thus, _this_ was born.**

**Story also inspired by the song Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol.**

**To Devil'sMiracle17 on your paper cut review: omg hahaha I'm so embarrassed. I don't think of myself as a very skilled comedic writer so every time someone says they find my writing funny I am disinclined to believe them lmao but from you? _I'll take it _cause I trust you hahaha. Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it, cause this was... I don't know how to describe it really other than a personal prompt fill. I've been wanting to write a Chloe-returns-her-bullet-necklace scene for some time now, it just took my Endgame movie hangover for inspiration to kick in I suppose (you were right, the tissues were a good call and _very _much exhausted thank you for the heads-up lol). I wanted her to expose herself, literally as she was naked save for the bullet, and figuratively by saying she was ready to accept all of him but only if he accepted all of her too. Also I wanted to play on my own personal take on Lucifer's Lightbringer powers wherein he's like a star in Stardust, in that when he's happy he shines but when he isn't, even though it isn't evident, there's a certain shadow that taints him and Chloe sensed it. Now idk if that translated but that's what I was going for in this piece lmao. You're so eloquent I'm having a hard time believing that you struggle to write creatively! If you ever give it another go, however, you have a definite reader in me! For now, I'm so pleased, _too _pleased, even that you're here with me, always sharing your thoughts and insights. Balm to my soul, honestly. After my nap from Endgame, I was contemplating not posting today cause my own light had dimmed, if you will, but then I read your comment and it pushed me through. Thank you for always encouraging me to be a better writer even if I don't always make the effort to be one. May tomorrow be better and I'll see you then! I'm gonna sleep. _Again. _I'm so devastated lol. That Endgame effect.**


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